<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>About Intimacy by JayEclipse</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24777433">About Intimacy</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayEclipse/pseuds/JayEclipse'>JayEclipse</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Earth-627 [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Azrael: Agent of the Bat (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics), Justice League International (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Based on a RP, Coming Out, Internalized Homophobia, Jean-Paul Valley is Questioning, Maxwell Lord Being Nice, Questioning, but it makes sense in the fanon verse this is written in, i know this is a really weird duo to be talking</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:41:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,102</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24777433</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayEclipse/pseuds/JayEclipse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Left alone in the team's base Jean-Paul and Maxwell end up having their most open conversation with each other and find they have some things in common.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jean-Paul Valley &amp; Maxwell Lord</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Earth-627 [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1792048</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>About Intimacy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is set in Earth-627 which is a fanon verse created by me and my brother and usually developed through roleplaying.<br/>Unknown is a team of heroes dedicated to fighting smaller or more silly threats. The members list is as follows<br/>- Jimmy Olsen (Team Leader)<br/>- Big Barda<br/>- Vic Stage/The Question<br/>- Jean-Paul Valley/Azrael<br/>- Rose Constantine<br/>- Maxwell Lord</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“I think I might be gay.” Jean-Paul blurts out, staring down at the cup of coffee he had been nursing for the past half hour.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Unknown base was empty besides from the two of them, Jimmy had a job, Barda a husband and baby, Rose has a family to spend time with, Question went off to investigate his theory of the week.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Jean-Paul doesn’t have any family as far as Maxwell knows, no real life outside of his freelance programming work and heroics. And Maxwell somehow was fairing worse, the world as a whole had forgotten who he was and the people who did know who he once was, hated him for actions he couldn’t even begin to explain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So the two had been left alone together, nobody had thought anything of it when the last of them went out the door. Maxwell hung around the office more often than his own home and Jean-Paul hadn’t felt like packing up his laptop and taking a break from whatever he was working on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maxwell’s eyebrow perks up as he glances over at Jean-Paul. His coworker looked more nervous in this moment than when faced with life threatening danger. His hand was trembling for christ’s stake. Maxwell was almost certain that he was the first person Jean-Paul had ever said this too, maybe even including himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Okay.” Was all that managed to come out of Maxwell’s mouth. He is thankful that he hadn’t blurted out something more… extreme. The last thing he wanted to do was scare Jean-Paul back into the closet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An awkward chuckle cuts through the tension in the air. Despite the laughter Jean-Paul didn’t look the least bit more comfortable, hell Max would so far as to say he looked even less. “I guess that was pretty random wasn’t it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only half a moment passes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maxwell shifts in his seat, leaning forward. He almost let’s a reflexive smile onto his face, the one he used to use while convincing officials to continue to let Justice League International to work in their borders. But he instead let’s his face just stay it’s natural, neutral self. He doesn’t want to come off as fake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No it’s alright. I don’t mind.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can’t believe the universe has left him as the person to deal with this. Not Jimmy who’s good natured, easy to talk to even about the strangest things, won’t judge anything. Not Barda who knows relationship’s and sexurailty first hand, so confident in her own skin that a person can’t help but have it rub off on them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Really the only person out of the team he was sure he was a better pick than was Question, Question could turn anything into an… issue. Besides he had a way of making JP anxious than he already was. Probably a bad mix, a conspiracy theorist and a man with schizophrenia.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Maxwell had his own hang ups about the topic, he never really let himself explore it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t?” It’s a tentative question, married by the sound of ceramic on wood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not really. I’ve talked about far stranger, and more random, more times than I can count.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m almost tempted to ask when.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t, there’s nothing for me to say about that period of my life. It’s dead and gone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your cagey with your past, that’s the mark of a man with a very exciting one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure you’re familiar with excitement then.” Jean-Paul wasn’t exactly open either, he had no leg to stand on with this issue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Point taken.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So why do you think you might be gay?” It’s an obvious question but still feels worth asking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been finding myself thinking about men in.... lustful ways. Ways that are fairly… unbecoming of me.” Guilt soak almost every word.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You seem fairly… troubled by this?” Maxwell doesn’t know a lot about his background, and of that the only thing that seemed relevant is the fact that Jean-Paul seemed to follow some sect of Christanty. Which would explain a lot actually.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The way I was raised, the only path of intimacy was to one day have a woman bare my child so he would follow my footsteps and my father’s footsteps and his father’s and so on. Then leave her behind, continue to be only devote to the Order above all else. So even just the idea of settling down with a woman make some deep seated part of me feel guilt, let alone glaze upon a fellow man as I would a woman.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence for a moment, what does a person even say to that?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s... intense. How are you sure you’d have a son?” Perhaps a slight diversion will give him a moment to think of some sort of… he wasn’t even sure of what he trying to do yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My family for generations have been genetically modified to be the perfect warriors, and the Order was quite traditional in who they wanted their avenging angel to be. So as far as I’m aware we’ve all been white men with blonde hair and blue eyes, though those last two points might be more related to the fact that Sweden was where my family line is from… besides there was that Asian Azrael from a different branch and yet another branch recruited a black man… But to the point we’ve all been men.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… see.” He really should just learn better than to ask about anyone’s history. With hero’s it is always something super intense that would give a therapist at least three year’s guaranteed employment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Too much information?” Just as the question leaves his mouth he takes a sip of his coffee.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was the one who asked, let’s be fair.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a pause. Jean-Paul sets the mug down again. Maxwell twiddles his fingers together, figuring out what to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay if you are interested in men. It’s twenty-twenty, most people are on board with that being okay. I mean avoid extreme religious groups or right wing ones, but other than them you’ll be mostly okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I grew up being groomed by one of those religious groups, one of the most extreme kinds. They wanted control over every part of me, mind, soul, body… My sexuality as well.” There’s still guilt in his face, about what Max has not a clue, about his upbringing? Being gay?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s horrible, absolutely horrible. I must ask what you’ve been doing to deal with the other thing’s they forbid you from?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A sigh, then words. “Well it hasn’t been easy but, I guess just being around other people has been the biggest help. If it weren’t for Batman and Oracle the Order would still have their hands on me. And for that matter if it weren't for the odyssey crew I’d probably still be a wreck over what happened in the ghost sector.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then perhaps find some other people who’ve gone through similar problems to the one you’re facing? It probably won’t be quite as extreme but there are definitely people out there who could relate to the broader strokes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That is a good idea, thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, least I can do really.” He wants to be there for the other members of Unknown, he misses being a part of a team. This lets him cling onto that feeling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think any of the others are… umm… queer?” Max could tell he was questioning the word usage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gave a small nod, one that hopefully says ‘you got the right word.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure. Jimmy seem’s pretty open to all sorts of things and I could swear he mentioned getting married to a man once, though given the nature of his marriages who knows how willing he was. I don’t think Rose has ever mentioned having any sort of crush on anyone. Barda is married but that doesn’t rule her out. And anything about Question is an enigma…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can stop there, hell he maybe should. But he doesn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess I can relate to what you’re saying…” There’s only one other person on this planet he’s ever mentioned this too and that man hates him now.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Jean-Paul blinks in surprise. “ You can…? You don’t seem like the-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stops himself, it’s a rude assumption, he knows better than that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maxwell gives a small nod as his hand traces over his own mouth. Jean-Paul isn’t sure if he can even tell he just nodded. And as for the hand he knows it’s a sign of thinking, lying, or regret. He can hope it’s the first one, for Maxwell’s stake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m aware I don’t. I probably come off as one of the most straight men you could meet, along with cis.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The word cis first came up when Cassandra had came out to him with Barbara’s help. It took those two a while to have Cass fully understand the words so they already knew how to explain it all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I must admit you do come off that way, yes.” He would have bet a lot of different as being queer before Maxwell, only Azrael ranked lower. “So… what’s your story?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The human condition cries out to relate to his fellow man, and that was an instinct that he can’t fight off. And it always turns out better when he doesn’t fight it. The only part of him that wants to fight it is the part of himself that he knows isn’t himself, it’s Azrael.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His arms cross. Defensive… or self comforting, it can mean either or all sorts of other things. There’s no perfect dictionary of body language despite what being friends with Cassandra would make someone think, it’s just her native tongue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well I grew up in the suburbs, white picket fence. Everybody there were these happy shiny people with nothing out of the mold in sight. Both my parents and culture as a whole told me I’d find the perfect woman, settle down with her, have two and a half kids then wait for them to give us grandchildren.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The similarity was striking, despite having a perfectly normal life it seemed the same sort of pressure was applied to Maxwell. The hypocritical parts of culture always stick out to him, when it happened to him at the hands of a cult it was horrible, when it happened at the hands of day time television it was normal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did manage to find a woman, actually two. It didn’t work out either time. And at the time I didn’t know why, I thought I had done everything right. I hadn’t, hell I don’t think I ever loved either of them. It was fair that both divorced me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The arms fall to his side as he lets out a sigh, these can’t be words that have been said by him in a long time. As Maxwell pinches the bridge of his nose thinking Jean-Paul can practicality see the duster knocking off a cover of particles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Being fair I don’t think I ever loved a singular person. Groups sure, but a singular person, a lone human being. I don’t think so.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean-Paul can’t help but interrupt. “That’s a good start, having something one on one can be… scary. So I can see how you might fair better with groups.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment Maxwell seems stunned before giving a small nod to himself. It seems to be a tick with him, the nodding. “You might have a point.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s a start.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I slept with a man once, it was probably the best night I spent in bed with another person…” He stares out the window, past the peeling decal and out to the busy street.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He continues to stare, a frown nestling on his face. It takes Jean-Paul a moment to realize this is what Maxwell looks like when he’s truly sad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I left, that’s what happened. And now he hates my guts, and there’s nothing I could say to repair the problem.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another moment of staring is all it takes for him to collect himself, and put back on his mask. Despite him being one of the people on the team to not wear a litrailtal mask Jean-Paul was pretty sure he wore the thickest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Since then I pushed it out of my mind, I had other matters to tend to. Other things to occupy my thoughts.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what about now?” Jean-Paul tilts his head looking at Maxwell. His chin resting on the back of his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about now?” Maxwell’s arms go closer to him, look tighter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve got time to think about it now, and somebody going down the same journey.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maxwell was probably the member of the team he was least close to, he was pretty sure that thought was true for the rest of the team as well. But he wants to reach out, it couldn’t hurt at the very least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess, I’m not sure where I’d even start though, let alone what the point of it would be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyebrow raises. “What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a sigh, the kind that most often comes after a long drag of a cigarette. “Any idea of romance left my life a long time ago. Settling down is never going to be an opinion for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a hunch, might not be right, but he’s going to say it anyways. “It feels like you don’t see a future for yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maxwell stares at him for a moment. “What.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just the way you talk about yourself, your past, and your future. The way you’ll throw yourself into danger. It feel like you don’t see a future with you in it, it feels like you have a death wi-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <b>
    <em>Enough</em>
  </b>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mouth stops moving without his permission, instead hanging agap. A icey feeling runs through his body, a feeling he knows better than most. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Control. </span>
  <span>Control</span>
  <span>. </span>
  <span>Control</span>
  <span>. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Controlled</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blood runs down Maxwell’s face from his nose. Without a thought he’s already got a handkerchief out from his pocket and wiping the blood off his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In those brief moments Jean-Paul can feel some deep part of him wanting to lash out at Maxwell for what Jean-Paul has to assume was a mistake. Some part of him, or maybe it’s one of the other’s, he’s always had trouble telling, wants to do something… violent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Maxwell’s eyes go wide as he looks down at the handkerchief and sees the blood, then looks up meeting Jean-Paul’s eyes. Wide and frozen in some form of fear, loss of control, it was an idea Jean-Paul over the years has become less and less comfortable with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maxwell’s hand goes over his mouth, it’s clearly regret this time. “I didn’t mean to...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The glaze is unbroken, though from Jean-Paul’s side it might be better described as a glare. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The glare is broken. He is not an angry man, he tries his best not to be. If he didn’t it would consume him like a fire.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All is forgiven if it doesn’t happen again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Understood.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If they were sitting closer to each other this felt like the part where they’d shake hands. But they’re practically on other sides of the room. Such an intimate conversation for the amount of space between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m actually wondering something.” Maxwell broke the near silence, Jean-Paul had to imagine it was full silence for anyone but him, that the slight buzzing in his ear was just his but he had no real way to test that other than ask, and it was a pointless question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shoot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why did you tell me? Why tell </span>
  <em>
    <span>me </span>
  </em>
  <span>you were questioning?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lightly chuckles. It’s a good question. By all rights one of the other’s would have made more sense.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I felt you’d understand where I’m coming from the best. Most of the others are fairly… unconnected to normal life, and Rose is a kid. In comparison you are probably the most grounded member of this team.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maxwell for a change is the one giving a slight chuckle, and even a slight smile. “I guess I am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s gotta be a challenge.” Trying to keep up with the others, even he has problems keeping up at times.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not at all, I’ve done this before.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maxwell’s history just keeps sounding stranger and stranger.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>It’s rare for him to be in the office. Jean-Paul avoids having him front unnecessarily at all costs. It’s rarer yet to be practically alone in the office. He had stuck around to do some prayer in one of the side rooms while the others left to grab some food. Someone mentioned they’d be staying but he hadn’t paid attention to who it had been.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So it is a surprise seeing Maxwell hovering near the coffee machine. He must have heard the footsteps as he peers behind him, his jaw relaxes. Something’s going on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can we talk?” Lord asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stops in the doorway, arms crossed. “Sure, what of?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s about Jean-Paul-” There’s a pause. Lord glances aside, stroking his chin. “-Are you aware of my recent… conversation with him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, we have the same memories. There’s no memory loss, at most one of our memories may be fuzzy if it had been the other who was active at the time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lord nods to himself. “I see… So I have to ask if you have anything to say on that topic?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why ask?” His teammates rarely bothered to get to know him. To be fair he was simple to understand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You seem like you’re very religious, you run around calling yourself Azrael for Christ’s-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s my </span>
  <em>
    <span>name</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I don’t know why I’d run around calling myself anything else.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah right, sorry. Anyways so I have to wonder if your… against what Jean-Paul is questioning or…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can appreciate that it seems like Lord is trying to look out for Valley. It’s good to know he’s not alone in that effort. But the idea that he’d be against Valley’s self discovery is… well it’d be a fair concern a couple years ago but he’s changed since then.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine with it. Frankly the idea of gender or attraction is far beyond me so I can’t say I have a lot of thoughts on it. All I can say is that no matter what kind of person Valley becomes interested in, I will be keeping a very close eye on them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fair enough. I have to say that I’m a little surprised.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why? I’m an avenging </span>
  <em>
    <span>angel</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I’ve got far better things to concern myself with.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see.” Lord turns back to the coffee machine. “Want some?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading this strange fan fic that I hyper focused on writing yesterday</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>